Apologies
by MrsJoshHutcherson112
Summary: "Come to mock me again?" he accused, his tone laced with the barely-concealed hate his eyes also held. "N-No," she replied, cursing God and all her 20 years that her infamous stutter had decided to reappear. "I-I came to apologize." Rated T for Amian-ness.


**A/N: Ugh. Typed this up at 1 in the morning. And it is SO not in favor of the V-day mood. Lol**

**I'M IN STORY OVERLOAD MODE! WHOO! XD**

**This idea just literally kinda...popped in my head. And my fingers typed it automatically :P**

**Just so you know, yes, Amy and Ian have been dating for a while now, before this happens. Just thought I'd point that out.**

**Anyway, I don't own The 39 Clues, and we'll leave it at that, right? Don't remind me of the sadness! T.T**

* * *

**Apologies**

She ran through the house frantically, searching for him through the crowd of relatives. _Where is he?_

There. She just caught a glimpse of his shiny black hair before he ducked into the library to get out of the chaos.

She tried to shove her way through the sea of people, but most seemed to be purposefully standing their ground, just to block her from reaching him in time.

Someone stepped on her foot and she tripped, barely catching herself before she hit the ground. She gritted her teeth, stood up, and kept elbowing her family members out of the way. All she needed to do was get to the library. All she needed to do was reach him. All she needed to do was apologize.

But why was everyone around her determined to make that impossible?

Half these people, she didn't even know. A quarter of them she had only seen once or twice in her life, and the rest weren't hardly friends, besides a select few. And since she hadn't spoken to most of them, did she care how many people sent her death glares as she shoved past?

Not today. She needed to say sorry.

As long as she could catch him first.

A 50 year old Japanese man stopped her for conversation, but she rudely ignored him and forged ahead, her desperation rising. Everybody was making it so difficult – she realized she very well might not make it in time.

She looked up. Approximately 10 yards to the door.

She locked eyes with her brother across the room, and he raised an eyebrow.

She shook her head and returned her gaze forward. 5 yards.

She saw a break in the crowd and ran through it, exploding into the library doorway.

0 yards.

And there he stood.

He swirled his near-empty glass of water. His gaze was directed toward the fireplace, his back to her. The dancing flames looked like they were surrounding him, consuming him.

Her throat constricted. He knew she was there, but had chosen to ignore her.

She didn't blame him. She deserved it.

But she hadn't elbowed her way past 200 relatives to give up and walk away. The prospect of possibly losing him made her heart ache.

So, she did probably the stupidest thing she could have done at that moment.

She grabbed his arm, then stepped in front of him to get a good look at his face.

And she regretted it immediately.

The flames reflected the anger in his eyes. His eyes never flicked over her once, though, and she wondered if he was doing that on purpose or if he really was just staring into space.

But she didn't just see anger, like she'd expected. There was a small tinge of sadness. Caused by her? She didn't understand it. If she were in his place, she doubted she would have felt anything but hatred.

She stared into his dark eyes, but he refused to look at her. She sighed audibly. He wasn't exactly making it easier for her. Did he even want her apology, or was he done with her completely?

She felt a pang in her heart at that thought. She sincerely hoped he would listen.

And if his sight wouldn't work, then she would have to break the sound barrier.

"Ian," she said softly, barely over a whisper.

He didn't even acknowledge the fact that she had spoken.

She brushed a piece of hair out of her face. She squeezed his hand.

"Ian," she repeated, a bit more forcefully. She searched his eyes for any sign that her words had registered in his brain, but there was none. Not even a flicker.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, he grabbed her arm with the hand that wasn't holding the water glass. She winced at his tight grip.

His eyes finally found hers and she flinched again. Whatever sadness she had seen was gone; disappeared from his mind, replaced only by the pure loathing that dominated the rest of his expression.

He looked her up and down, hand still wrapped around her forearm. Then his lips turned up in a sneer.

"Come to mock me again?" he accused, his tone laced with the barely-concealed hate his eyes also held.

His words hit her like a punch in the gut and her breath caught in her throat. It took all her willpower not to shrink from his gaze and run.

She had come here for a reason.

"N-No," she replied, cursing God and all her 20 years that her infamous stutter had decided to reappear. "I-I came to apologize."

Ian's laugh cut her resolve like melted butter. There was no humor to it; it was a replica of the laugh she'd used on him only hours before – cruel, not caring how it affected the other person.

He stopped abruptly and glared down at her, his eyes daring her to speak again. "Your words have no effect on me, no matter how sincere you act. Don't even bother," he nearly spat.

A burning sensation pricked at the back of her eyes, but she tried her best to ignore it. She swallowed and hesitantly spoke again, surprised her voice was above a whisper. "Y-You'd be surprised. You don't know how sincere I really am."

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

She shook her head, her fear of his rage melting. "No."

He stared at her for a few seconds longer, then released her arm. He smirked. "I don't care if your current words hurt less than your previous ones. I don't want to hear them."

Ouch. That reminded her of the day's previous events. And that wasn't something she really liked thinking about.

He started to walk away, but she stepped in front of him, blocking the doorway. They were close enough to the crowd now to hear the good-natured conversations and laughter echoing throughout the house, but no sound even seemed to touch their ears.

Except for each other's words.

* * *

_4 Hours Previously..._

"I can't believe you DID THAT!"

"I can't believe I didn't do that EARLIER!"

"Jerk!"

"Nerd!"

"Ugh!" Amy through her hands up in exasperation. "It's when you act like this that frustrates me the most! Always acting perfect all the time, like no one can touch you. Well you know what? I _hate_ it. Why would you _want _to be perfect anyway?"

Ian rolled his eyes skyward for a second before holding her defiant gaze again. "Well, I suppose you wouldn't know what it feels like to be perfect, seeing as how you were a penniless orphan for most of your life! You don't know what it's like to be perfect!"

Amy scoffed. "And you do?! How far can you sink, Ian?"

"Hopefully far enough to block out all the noise you're making. Do you yell at your mirror for practice?"

"I hardly _look_ at a mirror, unlike some narcissistic _idiots_ who can't get enough of their own reflections!"

"Sometimes look are everything."

"Looks are never everything!"

"Obviously you would think that."

Amy glared at him. "And obviously, the only way to maintain your 'amazing looks' is by taking away from the brain cells that you _desperately _need. In fact, I'm surprised you're able to continue the conversation!"

"While we're on the subject of brain cells, have yours taken the day off, or were they just tired of being trapped under your thick skull?" Ian retorted.

"And you wonder why I get so tired of you! It's because you start crap like this and expect me to stand by and take it!" Amy stepped forward and poked him in the chest. Then she laughed cruelly. "You know, I'm surprised you're not still hanging around your mother right now. I just know she would be _so_ proud of you!"

Why she had dragged Isabel into this, Amy would never know the answer to. But as soon as the shock registered on Ian's face, she instantly wanted to reverse time and shut herself up.

"I-Ian, I... I didn't m-mean it like –"

The look on Ian's face made her falter. She closed her mouth.

Ian gritted his teeth, seething. His voice shook when he spoke, his voice quiet.

"I thought you were different – the only one that didn't judge people by the families they belonged to." Ian took a deep breath, his eyes boring painfully into hers. "Now I know how wrong I was."

"N-No! Ian, don't..."

He stepped around her, heading for the front door. He shook off her constant attempts to stop him from leaving.

"Stop!" she shouted, pushing against his chest. "Just... Just hear me out!"

Ian shoved her hands away, twisted the door handle. But before he took his first step out the door, he looked at her one last time.

She saw no emotion in his eyes – not even anger.

Ian exhaled.

"No. I'd rather not 'hear you out'."

He pulled the door open, some raindrops splashing onto the carpet.

"But thanks for the wake up call."

And he stormed out of the house, making sure to slam the door behind him.

Amy wasn't surprised to feel tears welling up in her eyelids. She felt awful. She shouldn't have said that. She'd overstepped her boundaries, and now she was paying the price for it.

How had the argument even started? The only thing she remembered was the blind rage that had turned her brain over to the dark side.

She turned away from the doorway, wiping her eyes. And as luck would have it, the one person she considered a sister happened to have witnessed the entire exchange.

Nellie's eyes widened at the sight of tears running down Amy's cheeks. "Aw, don't do that, kiddo..."

She crossed the threshold and hugged her, Amy gratefully accepting the comforting embrace. "It wasn't your fault. Ian was totally wrong."

But Amy shook her head. "No. I shouldn't have said what I said. It was wrong."

Nellie pulled away to give her a defiant stare. "Oh, no you don't. Don't you start feeling bad for that Kabra jerk again. He wasn't exactly right, either."

Amy sniffed. "But Nellie...I basically told him he was acting like Isabel."

Nellie sighed. "I know. But he should've seen that one coming. I mean, he was being completely irrational about the whole thing."

"And I wasn't?" Amy retorted. "I'm pretty sure I started it anyway."

"It doesn't matter how a fight starts," Nellie said. "It's how it ends that counts." Nellie started making her way back to the kitchen, but made one last pointed look at her. "Remember that."

How it ends that counts.

_Well, it ended with hurt feelings and a slammed door. How does that count for anything?_

Amy left the living room, ran up the stairs and hid in her room until the family reunion started three hours later.

* * *

_Present Time_

"It doesn't matter how the fight starts," Amy told him, repeating Nellie's words from only a few hours ago. "It's how it ends that counts."

Ian narrowed his eyes. "You're going philosophical on me, Amy."

Amy shook her head. "What I'm saying is that it doesn't matter what I said or what you said – all that matters is that the right people apologize and admit they were wrong... Which is what I'm trying to do now."

Ian shook his head and tried to take another step forward, but she prevented him from leaving once again.

"Please," she pleaded. "Don't go."

Her voice broke at the end, and it was enough to make Ian Kabra stop dead in his tracks. He looked at her expectantly, but with a little impatience.

Amy exhaled. "I'm sorry. I can't explain why I mentioned your mother, but I do know that I feel terrible about what my words did to you."

Ian cleared his throat, looking down at the ground.

"I was just so worked up and the words flew out of my mouth before I could stop it. Then you kept firing back, and I said something else, then you made me m – "

She was halted in her progress by the warmth of his lips on hers.

He pulled away slowly, leaving her wide-eyed and shocked.

"Wh-What... I thought..." she stammered, struggling to make the words come out.

Ian shushed her, saving her the embarrassment. "You thought I stopped loving you?"

Amy's cheeks flushed, but she nodded at the ground.

Ian tilted her chin up to look her in the eyes. He gave a small smile. "You think I would ever be capable of something like that? Making a decision that would leave me without the best thing I've ever had in my life?"

Amy's hand went up and her fingers brushed his. "I-I just... I just thought you would hate me forever or something."

This time, instead of cruel or mocking, Ian's laugh was nothing but humorous. "Love, I don't have anything like that in me."

Amy smiled. "I know."

"But, really," Ian started. "I appreciate the apology. But what were you going to say? I believe you were interrupted, and I couldn't hear you very well."

Amy giggled. "Shut up!"

Then their lips met again.

* * *

**Huh. There was, like, no humor in this at all. How unlike me! :O I think this is my first Hurt/Comfort fic. Hooray for Callie! XD I've broken the barrier!**

**Anyway, the usual: Read, Review, Favorite, Flame it, do whatever. This is just another story by _moi_, nothing special, so I don't care what you do with it :) **

**Until the next fic I post! (Aka...Soon.)**

**~Callie~**


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